The other day I was at my two boys’ open house for school when I was recognized. "Aren’t you a writer?" the woman asked, bless her heart. I stared dumbly at her. "You were at Jeremy Robinson’s book reading, right? You’ve got a book coming out, right?" I continued to stare at her. "You’re not a writer?" she said, less enthusiastically now.
Yes, folks. That’s how I handled my first instance of being recognized. When I finally managed to say that yes, I was a writer, she brightened again, glad she hadn’t gotten it wrong. Of course, then she said to my son, "Your mom’s a celebrity!" I then proceeded to turn bright red. She was just being funny about it, but I had no idea how to handle the whole thing. If I ever become better known, I guess I won’t have to worry about fame going to my head. You know, getting arrogant, getting cocky. Not when I am stunned to immobility and become unable to speak when people approach me.
When I think about my future as an author, maybe getting fans, being recognized once in a while, I always imagine myself coming across as gracious and witty, clever and wise. Instead, I say, Guhhh…Sigh. Fame isn’t easy. But I shall try to handle it the best I can and maybe practice in the mirror what I should say if anyone ever recognizes me again. In a way, I hope they do. We all have are dreams of appearing on Letterman or Oprah and just wowing everyone with our sense of humor and insight. But in a way, I hope people don’t. At least not until I have something else to say besides…well, you know what.
So, if we ever meet, please be patient with me. I am not at my best socially. But I do try. Maybe this time I will manage to say hi without looking like a deer caught in headlights…